The thing of my constant doodling on pads as a kid. Hit the point of
a very interesting pattern or drawing, but still with pen in hand,
needing to doodle on, pushing it pas the point of balance and into
something overwrought, noisy, thick and tangled. This is how I feel
about what can go wrong in the approach to film editing where,
because it is so easy to do, the point of perfection is glibly passed
over, the sense of beauty is missed and before long the faculty
dulled so that the idea of their even being a restraint, a kind of
balance, is no longer recognized or appreciated. Which is why I had
an early distinctive distrust dislike disgust with music videos.
They were an oxymoron. The real music was in the story. Editing was
the process of finding and completing a symphony of meaning. While I
see now that the whole culture has gone the way of worshipping this
newer understanding of editing, few filmmakers coming through its
discipline have been able to hew it to ends that I can admire. Most
produce eye candy and think that’s enough.